There was a huge storm in central Florida yesterday, and I have a few reflections to share now that I survived it.

1) When the weather people warn for days that there will be a thunderstorm on Tuesday, it's a good idea to bring your umbrella inside with you to work, as the one tucked safely in your trunk will be of zero help come 6:00 when the rain is pelting down and your car is parked on the other side of the lot. At that point, all you can do is stand in the lobby, staring out at the rain, longing for the safety of your car that's parked in the far corner of the parking lot all by its lonesome, and waiting for the rain to let up. Which, of course, it doesn't for a long time because it's a big thunderstorm. I grew impatient after 15 minutes of mournful staring out the glass-walled lobby windows and decided to brave a run for it, dress clothes and puddles and squeals and all, and arrived at the car only mildy soaked.

2) How did people survive before electricity was invented? I came home to a blacked-out house and had to pick up on a Little-House-on-the-Prairie life. I changed out of my work clothes in the dark. I pulled my hair up in the dark (why did I bother standing in front of the mirror?). I couldn't watch Felicity episodes, which is what I had planned to do since Kirk was at school. I couldn't read. I couldn't make dinner on the gas-range stove. All I could do was light the one big candle we have left, carry it with me into the kitchen while I poured my cereal, then carry it back to the living room with me while I sat on the couch and stared at nothing. I decided it was God's way of being funny by forcing me to write, since the only thing working was my battery-charged Dell laptop that had a bright-white screen. I gave that a go until everything started whirring and clicking when the power came back on about 30 minutes later. At which point, I promptly abandoned by laptop in favor of Felicity.